


Home Again

by celeste9



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Cooks, Cooking, Domestic, Domestic Avengers, Established Relationship, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 15:25:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1190175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Clint,” Natasha said, her eyes taking in the sight before her. “Don’t you think that maybe you might be overdoing things a little?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Again

**Author's Note:**

> For enochiansigils in Fandom Stocking.

“Clint,” Natasha said, her eyes taking in the sight before her. “Don’t you think that maybe you might be overdoing things a little?”

Clint looked down at the large pan of lasagna he’d just taken out of the oven. The cutting board was covered with vegetables chopped for a salad, the garlic bread was wrapped in foil ready to be popped in the oven, and the cake pans were sitting out on the counter still waiting to be frosted. Natasha knew that the freezer was stuffed near to bursting with tupperware containers of meatballs and sauce, as the batch Clint had made was much, much more than necessary for one lasagna, even if it was in the biggest pan he had.

Or, the biggest pan Coulson had, considering it was his apartment. Natasha was nearly positive Clint had bought the pan, though.

Clint raised his eyes up to Natasha’s face. “It’s too much, isn’t it? He probably just wants a pizza or something. I can still order a pizza; should I order a pizza?”

“Clint--”

“I still think we should’ve met him in medical,” Clint said, talking right over her. “It isn’t right that we’re not there, we should’ve gotten him and driven him home, no matter what the stubborn bastard said about it. Is it too late? I guess we can’t go now, he must’ve left already.”

“This is what he wanted. He wouldn’t thank you for...” Natasha cut herself off.

“Making a fuss,” Clint said, his shoulders slumping.

Natasha stepped forward, resting her hands on Clint’s hips. “It’s difficult for me, too,” she began carefully.

“Is it? Because it sure as hell doesn’t seem like it is. Just another day in the office for Natasha Romanoff.”

“That isn’t fair,” Natasha said, keeping her tone neutral.

Clint’s mouth dipped downwards in a frown. “I’m sorry, Tasha. I didn’t mean to--”

“I know,” Natasha said, and she raised one hand to Clint’s face, gently rubbing her thumb over his cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah?”

Natasha nodded firmly. “Yes. Phil’s coming home.”

“Phil’s coming home,” Clint repeated, his bearing still tense but relief flickering in his eyes. It had been a hard time for both of them.

Clint’s eyes broke from Natasha’s to glance towards the door a second after she registered the noise. He practically ran to the door, swinging it open.

Coulson’s arm was outstretched, halfway toward knocking. “I guess you were expecting me,” he said.

Natasha pulled Clint out of the middle of the doorway to give Coulson room to walk through. He looked tired still, dark bags beneath his eyes, and he moved stiffly.

“Uh,” Clint said, looking like he wanted to do too many things at once and couldn’t decide what was the right one. Then he said, “The bread,” and fled back to the kitchen.

Coulson’s eyes were crinkling at the corners. “That went well,” he said.

Natasha’s lips quirked and she gestured Coulson towards the kitchen. “After you.”

When they arrived, Clint was straightening back up and closing the oven door. He avoided making eye contact with either of them and instead began dumping the chopped vegetables into the bowl of salad greens. It was far, far more salad than the three of them could ever hope to eat.

“I see you still use cooking as a coping mechanism,” Coulson said, his tone gentle.

Clint’s eyes were wide in his face and Natasha wasn’t sure what he would do, but then he moved forward and pressed a quick kiss to Coulson’s cheek. “Well, you know, figured I’d better do something after all that shit SHIELD food you’ve been having. You’re too thin, sir, you might waste away.”

“It scares me when you channel my mother,” Coulson said, and Natasha finally let herself relax.

Phil was home and they were all going to be okay.

_**End** _


End file.
